


Crash Through The Surface

by Thoughts Like A Minefield (Incog_Ninja)



Series: SPN Kink Bingo 2019 [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bisexual Dean Winchester, Language, Longing, M/M, Referenced prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 09:09:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21134237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Incog_Ninja/pseuds/Thoughts%20Like%20A%20Minefield
Summary: Dean remembers his First.





	Crash Through The Surface

**Author's Note:**

> SPN Kink Bingo Square Fill: First Time 
> 
> Endless love and thanks to Glass_Jacket

Castiel doesn’t intrude on Dean’s dreams unless it’s necessary – and it was – but he still apologizes. 

“Cas,” Dean sighs and drops into one of the plush leather chairs in the library. “Stop apologizing. It’s nothin’ you’ve never seen before.” Dean looks pointedly at Cas as he takes a large swallow from the beer bottle in his hand. 

“Still,” Castiel says, hedging the subject. “It felt like… an intimate moment.” 

Dean was dreaming about Jasen, which he hasn’t done in years, but Castiel has seen Dean in just about every position known to man and celestials alike. He’s seen Dean’s other dreams and with Benny in Purgatory.

Dean nods. “Yeah, well,” he says, shrugging before setting his attention back on his beer. “Just a dream, man, no big deal.” 

“OK,” Castiel finally acquiesces. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

Dean mumbles some semblance of parting words then sips his beer in silence with thoughts of younger days.

He remembers feeling burdened and broken, even though he was still fresh and new. He remembers believing no one could ever know what he knew about the world. even though back then he knew next to nothing compared to now. Dean remembers needing so much for someone to know _him_.

He remembers feeling relief when he learned that Jasen was expected to be the man of the house from the moment he and his mom got the news that his dad was killed in the line of duty, and nothing was ever the same.

Dean finishes his beer as he recalls the way his skin pricked with sensation and wonder at the sound of Jasen’s smooth, warm voice. It was comforting and inviting and left knots in Dean’s gut and heated his groin.

Jasen would sing his sister to sleep then put her to bed before pushing Dean into the cushions of the shabby couch and whispering into the curve of his jaw under the flickering light of the TV, tongues twisting slow and deep.

The memories flow as Dean stands and crosses the room to the bar cart to pour himself a scotch to sip. He swirls his tongue through the mossy liquid and reminisces over the luxury of his heart pounding under his ribcage from the simple gentle drag of calloused skin against calloused skin.

He was so eager, so easy; they both were, but Dean let Jasen have his way, _any_ way, and loved every minute of it. Jasen took his time and teased him – teased _him_! 

Sex was sex and Dean had had it – he’d had it with women and men who paid a premium, and pretty girls for fun. Fucking Jasen was more than sex. It felt like climbing inside his mind and his body and feeling everything in safety when he’d sink down onto him. 

That was the dream – the last time they were together when Dean went to tell him it was time to say goodbye. Jasen cried and kissed him, touched him everywhere, fucked him slow and deep.

Dean didn’t cry, though; he couldn’t – or wouldn’t. He wanted to soak it in, to hold on forever, to never forget. He told Jasen that, too; he told him he wouldn’t forget him or that moment or the way he felt (like no one else) and that Jasen spelled his name with an ‘E’.

“Hey.” Sam trudges into the library, startling Dean from his thoughts.

“Hey,” Dean answers, his voice grating deep as he lifts his drained glass. “Want one?”

Sam agrees, slinging his bag to the table, and Dean refills his own glass after pouring one for Sam.

Sam met Jasen once. They were at the public library. Sam had a paper due at the end of the week, and Jasen and Dean were studying for the GED. Jasen also helped Sam with his paper that day. Sam talked about Jasen for a full year after that.

“I guess sometimes we get to take it easy, huh?” Sam asks, accepting the drink from Dean’s hand. “When Cas woke us both up for this possession, I thought it was another apocalypse.”

“Fucking demons,” Dean says and both brothers grimace as they toast to success.

Sam downs his scotch in two gulps before setting the glass aside and bidding Dean goodnight. “Or good morning, I guess,” he mutters wryly, and Dean pours another drink for himself.

“Still dark outside, Sammy,” he says. “’Night it is.”

Sam wanders off to his bedroom, and Dean takes a seat in the armchair once more.

No, Dean won’t ever forget Jasen. No matter what his dad said, no matter what Alistair did, no matter the loves and losses in his life – Jasen was the first.


End file.
